A Soft Place to Fall Read online

  She pushed away his money with a firm but friendly gesture. "I don't know how such a big dog managed to get through such a small opening."

  "I have newfound respect for him."

  Her gaze drifted discreetly to the watch on his left wrist. "I tried to lure him out but I haven't had much luck." She gave him another one of those sideways looks that exerted an almost gravitational pull on his erotic imagination. "I think he showed his teeth."

  "All six of them?" Who's waiting at home for you? Do they know how lucky they are?

  "I don't know how many there were but the ones I saw were pretty big."

  "Max wouldn't bite you."

  "You don't sound very sure." The frown lines between her brows deepened. "He is your dog, isn't he?"

  "As of two weeks ago. We're still getting to know each other."

  Another quick glance at her watch. "I don't mean to be rude, but do you think you could continue the process in your truck? If I don't get home soon, they'll come out looking for me."

  Her family. The ones who were waiting for the sound of her truck in the driveway. Funny how those words acted like a metaphorical cold shower. He knew without being told that she had three freckle-faced kids and a husband who wore plaid flannel shirts and a gold wedding band that matched the one on her left hand.

  He dumped his packages on the ground and swung open the driver's door. "C'mon, Max," he said. "You've had enough fun for one day. Let's go."

  Max rested his noble head on the steering wheel and closed his eyes. Pizza sauce was clearly visible on his greying muzzle. It was clear the dog wasn't going anywhere in a hurry.

  They didn't call them man's best friend for nothing.

  #

  The moment the man turned his back, Annie frantically tried to smooth her hair, her work shirt, and her hormones back into place. Unfortunately she failed on all fronts. Her hair was determined to spring free of any and all attempts to tame it. Her work shirt refused to morph into her favorite red sweater, the one with the sexy zipper up the front. And her hormones? They were careening through her veins like bumper cars gone amok.

  The fates had themselves one strange sense of humor. Why else would they send a woman out looking like an unmade bed when that poor unsuspecting woman was on a collision course with a man so hot he could boil water just by looking at it. It wasn't simply unfair, it was downright sadistic. She never went out of the house looking like this. She always wore a little lipstick, a pair of earrings, a dab of perfume. Even on her worst days she managed to be presentable.

  But not today. Today she had to go out looking like an unemployed lumberjack who ate like one. Even the contents of her shopping cart embarrassed her. He must think she was a sexless, middle-aged woman whose hobby was drinking beer and eating nachos in front of the television.

  Which, all things considered, wasn't that far off the mark.

  No wonder he had turned his full attention to his dog.

  Annie almost felt sorry for him as he struggled to lure his sleepy, pizza-sated Lab out of her truck. He was trying so hard it made her smile. He coaxed. He prodded. He demanded. He even opened up the sack of dog chow and offered the dog a bribe. Max merely opened one eye, surveyed the situation, then went back to sleep.

  What a wonderful dog!

  Good boy. I'll buy you another pizza if you'll nap just a little bit longer. What a pleasure it was to lean against a shopping cart in the Yankee Shopper parking lot and ogle a gorgeous man who didn't know or care that you were ogling. She might look like a hausfrau but inside she was still sixteen.

  Clay, she thought. It had been years since she'd last brought an image to life with clay but the sense memory was sharp and clear. Slick hot clay between her fingers, clinging to her skin as she molded it slowly into the torso of a man. She could feel the deltoids taking shape, the swell of bicep, the clean power of shoulder and chest. Naked he would be a god. If he had any fat on his frame it was well concealed. What Annie saw was sinewy muscle and coiled strength beneath a wrinkled work shirt and seen-better-days jeans. All he would have to do was walk into an art class at Bowdoin and offer to model and he would have work well into his golden years.

  Enjoy him while you can, Galloway. He's probably married with five kids and a minivan in the driveway.

  She tried to picture him in a small Colonial with a smiling wife and kids who brushed after every meal but the image wouldn't stay in focus.

  "Open the other door," he said over his shoulder. "Maybe if we double team him . . . "

  She crossed in front of the truck and opened the door on the passenger side. The smell of pizza and dog breath hit her right between the eyes. "Whoa!" she said, waving a hand in front of her face.

  Max sat up and looked at her, then his gaze fixed on a point just beyond her head. A dog person might have recognized that look but Annie was owned by cats, and that was all it took.

  The yellow Lab exploded out of the truck. He slammed into Annie, sending her spinning into the door where her shoulder clipped the frame. The collision apparently surprised the dog as much as it surprised Annie because he sat down quite abruptly and took stock of the situation.

  Max's owner was by her side in a flash. He gripped her shoulders to steady her and the rest of the universe dropped away. He smelled like like soap and cinnamon and freshly cut grass. She wanted to bury her nose against his neck and just breathe for a year or two.

  "Are you okay?" The warmth of his hand came right through her shirt. "You hit your shoulder on the door."

  "I did?" Right now her shoulders were the blissful center of her universe. How long had it been since she had been touched with tenderness and concern by a man? Longer than she could remember, years, maybe eons. His hands were large and strong, his touch wonderfully gentle. Something inside her chest went a little bit haywire.

  "Are you hurt?"

  She shook her head. "Max," she said. "You should –"

  Their gazes locked. His eyes were green with golden flecks, like sunlight splashing through a forest and they came alive when he smiled.

  "Max," she said again. "He was here a second ago –"

  Max's owner seemed to go from zero to sixty in a split second, his lean body taking flight like a race car at the starting flag. Annie, who had never believed in walking when she could drive, watched in a combination of awe and admiration as he took off after Max who was about to disappear into the woods. Whoever said the male body wasn't beautiful obviously hadn't watched Max's owner run.

  She leaned against her truck and absently rubbed her shoulder. Any second now Max and his owner would stride out of the woods and she wanted to make sure she didn't miss the sight. The staff at Annie's Flowers liked to tease her about her lack of interest in male pulchritude but the truth was they simply hadn't a clue. She wasn't likely to sit through three showings of the latest Mel Gibson movie just so she could gaze into his blue eyes but she had more than a passing interest in the male form. A lobsterman's forearms, the mail carrier's broad back, Max's owner's beautiful hands.

  Ceil waved to her from the other side of the parking lot and Annie waved back in return. Yankee Shopper was closing early so their employees could enjoy what was left of the Labor Day weekend and moments later, Annie was alone. She was debating whether or not she should head for the woods to lend a hand in the search for the dog when she heard the sound of a vehicle approaching and her heart sank. The odds were she would either be related to, friends with, or an old schoolmate of whoever was behind the wheel.

  "Annie! Great luck!" Hall Talbot brought his Rover to a stop next to her. "I was on my way to the new house."

  "How nice of you," she said, meaning it. "Susan's been asking about you all afternoon."

  "Three deliveries today," he said, shaking his head. "Must be the full moon."

  "You must be exhausted," she said.

  "Don't let the new mothers hear you say that. They're the ones who did the work."

  Statements like that weren't lip service from H
all. He really meant them. No wonder he was the most popular ob-gyn in three counties.

  "If you're ready, I'll follow you back to your place." He pointed to a stack of boxes on the seat next to him. "Hope it isn't too late for pizza."

  #

  "You're a sprinter, Max," Sam said as he picked up the exhausted yellow Lab. "Squirrels are long distance runners. Remember that."

  Max's poor old heart was beating fast and hard. He rested his head on Sam's arm and pretended he wasn't listening.

  "Getting old's a bitch," Sam said as he carried the dog out of the woods. That wind sprint across the parking lot hadn't been his shining moment either. Might not be a bad idea if he stopped for a second to catch his breath before he strode back toward the woman with the sad eyes and the beautiful smile.

  Then again maybe it didn't matter.

  She wasn't alone. A man with thinning blond hair towered over her. Their two SUVs were nose-to-nose. He looked annoyed. She looked amused. She was probably telling him all about her run-in with some New York dumbass and his pizza-eating dog and he was getting all hot under the collar. He stepped back into the cover of trees and shadows.

  Married, he thought, as he watched them climb into their respective vehicles and drive away. No doubt about it.

  They would go home, feed their kids pizza, then climb into bed and make love by the light of David Letterman.

  Boring.

  Dull.

  Routine.

  Every cliché ever invented to describe the life of a married couple who'd been together for a very long time.

  And for a moment Sam Butler would have sold his soul to trade places with the guy.

  Chapter Three

  "What's the matter with Hall?" Susan whispered to Annie later as they nuked a few more slices of pizza for the waiting throng. "He's awfully quiet tonight. Did you two have a fight or something?"

  "A fight?" Annie threw a stack of plastic cups into the waiting garbage bin. "I've barely had a chance to speak with him."

  "Well, something's got his goat. He's been walking around like he has he weight of the world on his shoulders ever since the two of you pulled into the driveway together."

  Annie sighed and leaned back against the sink. "I laughed at him."

  "Why would you laugh at Hall? That man has carried a torch for you since high school."

  Annie had been hearing about that imaginary torch for years and she still didn't believe it. "I didn't really laugh at him," she said, "but he thinks I did. He pulled up with those pizzas and -- well, I lost it."

  Susan's eyes flashed with outrage. Hall had guided her through three high-risk pregnancies and he was now on a par with God and Moses in her estimation. "You mean the poor man showed up with a half-dozen pepperoni pies and all you could do was laugh in his face?"

  "It wasn't Hall I was laughing at," she explained, "it was the situation." She tried to tell Susan about the truck and the man and the yellow dog behind the steering wheel and the massacred pizzas and the squirrel but the words were almost lost amidst huge gales of laughter she couldn't control.

  Susan looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "You're telling me a squirrel ate the pizzas?"

  "No, no!" She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, struggling not to start laughing again. "The dog ate the pizzas. The squirrel just ran by."

  "And where does the man come in?"

  "It's his dog."

  "The dog behind the wheel of your truck?"

  "Yes."

  "And the man took the pizzas?"

  "Haven't you heard a word I said, Susan? The dog ate the pizzas. The man wanted to pay for them."

  "But you wouldn't let him."

  "He ran off into the woods before I could change my mind." Not that she would have, but she was enjoying the look of confusion on her best friend's face.

  "And then Hall happened to drive by with a six-pack of pizza."

  "Exactly. I took one look and --" She started laughing again and this time Susan joined her.

  "It's good to hear you laugh again," Susan said as she slid slices of warm pizza from the microwave then divided them among four paper plates. "You used to be a world-class laugher. I've missed it."

  Annie slid four more slices into the microwave. "There hasn't been all that much to laugh about lately." She pressed the ON button. "Losing Kevin hit us all very hard."

  Susan shook her head. "No," she said, "you changed long before Kev died. Maybe around the time you two quit trying for a baby." She stopped short. "Sorry. I never know when to shut up."

  "Let's turn over a new leaf," Annie said. "From now on we laugh a lot, say what's on our minds, and quit apologizing for it." She grinned at her best friend and sister-in-law. She felt downright rebellious. "How does that sound to you?"

  #

  Annie was still smiling when she bumped into Hall near the entrance to her postage stamp sized living room.

  "I hope I thanked you properly for the pizzas," she said as she offered him a freshly-nuked slice dripping with cheese and heavy with pepperoni. "You were sweet to think of us."

  The guarded expression in his eyes lifted a little and for the first time she wondered if Susan just might be right about Hall's feelings for her. He had been part of her life for almost as long as she could remember, one of Susan's many friends who had floated in and out of the Galloway house at all hours of the day and night while she was dating Kevin. Later on he was a frequent guest at family celebrations as well as her doctor until she began seeing fertility specialists and her life turned upside down.

  Hall Talbot was a lovely man, a gentleman in the truest sense, and if he had even the slightest interest in her as a woman he had done one fine job of concealing it all these years.

  You're wrong, Susie, she thought as he helped himself to a slice of pepperoni. You're mistaking kindness for chemistry. She'd seen the kind of woman Hall Talbot dated and married and she wasn't anything like them. Both of his wives were small-boned, well-dressed, and perfectly groomed. Annie, at best, managed charmingly rumpled two or three times a year. Not that it mattered because she didn't feel that way about Hall. She wasn't blind to the fact that he was a very handsome man, but her heart didn't do back flips when she looked at him and it never would.

  There were people who said that sort of thing didn't matter and sometimes she wondered if maybe they were right. Her heart had done back flips and cartwheels when she looked at Kevin and see how that had ended up. Still, what was the point to love if it didn't make you feel like you could fly? You might as well live alone.

  Her brief interlude with Max's owner had been a powerful reminder of how wonderful it could be.

  "How bad's your car?" Hall asked between mouthfuls of pizza.

  "Remember how Susie's house looked after her big Y2K party?" He nodded. "Add dog spit and you're close."

  "He's paying for the clean-up, isn't he?"

  "He offered to pay for the pizza."

  "He should've offered to pay for the wreck his dog left behind."

  "I'm sure he would have," she said, "but, if you recall, we left before he came back to his truck." I should have helped him look for his dog. Why didn't I tell you to go on without me?

  Hall looked unconvinced. "He was probably hiding in the woods, waiting for you to leave."

  Her eyes widened in surprise. "A bit harsh, aren't you? You don't even know the man."

  "I know the type."

  "Really, Hall," she said, astonished by his over-the-top response. "You sound like his dog smeared pizza all over your upholstery instead of mine."

  "My mistake," he said, his manners reasserting themselves. "You're right. It's not like you'll run into him again, is it?"

  No, she thought as she headed back into the kitchen for more pizza. Not very likely at all.

  #

  Sam drove out to Warren Bancroft's house at the far side of town. Warren had been called down to New York on business but he left the keys to Sam's temporary digs with Pete and Nancy, the
couple who had been taking care of the place for the last twenty years. Unfortunately Pete and Nancy had decided to drive into town for some ice cream and it was nearly nine o'clock by the time they returned to find Sam and Max asleep on the front step.

  "Well, look who's here!" Nancy said, dragging a drowsy Sam into her embrace. She hugged him then pushed him slightly away so she could peer into his face. "Too skinny and too tired. We'll take care of that while you're in town."

  "You never change," Sam said, hugging her back. "You're the same shy woman I met almost twenty years ago." He had been seventeen at the time, filled with ambition and ready to see the world. He had signed on as part of Warren's crew for the summer and had spent two weeks right there at Shelter Rock Cove before sailing down to Key West.

  Pete, never one for small talk, shook Sam's hand then dug out the keys. "Watch out for the plumbing," he warned. "Ellie never was good at keeping up with repairs." He patted Max then went inside.

  "Annie Galloway moved into the house down the road from you today," Nancy said when the door swung shut behind her husband. "She's a widow, real nice gal. If you need any names or phone numbers, she's the one to go to."

  He imagined a weathered New Englander, much like Nancy herself, who could probably cope with just about anything life threw her way. "I'll keep that in mind."

  "You might want to introduce yourself. Just two houses on that road. Might settle her down some, knowing there's a man she can turn to."

  A sinking feeling settled itself in the pit of his stomach. The last thing he needed right now was to have anyone depending on him for anything.

  "So how's the boat coming along?" he asked, changing the subject. "Has he made any progress?" Warren Bancroft's dream had been to build a museum as a memorial to Shelter Rock Cove fishermen who had lost their lives to the sea and that dream was scheduled to come true next spring.